Clockwork
by toria0928
Summary: Merlin trying to make it through the anniversary of Arthur's death. Merthur, reincarnation, all that good stuff.
1. Chapter 1

It played in his mind.

Over and over.

Like clockwork.

Those final word that were spoken, saying so much.

But never saying enough.

And now he lived with it. He loved, day by day, never able to unlive the experience. Never able to stop it from playing.

Like clockwork.

And now he was alone. Just him and the distant memory of the day others so long since forgot. He lived and died every day.

Like clockwork.

Like clockwork.

And now he was alone.

Tears sprang to his eyes as he thought of the day that happened so long ago. He wiped them away before onlookers could see. No one ever say Merlin cry.

Even after so many centuries of Merlin walking among the outsiders-the people who would never understand-the memory of his prince, his king, his friend, always hurt. It tore him away until there was nothing left, only the shattered pieces of his self for him to attempt to put together before the next attack.

Like clockwork.

No one ever saw Merlin cry.

No one, except a man who walked into the bar as the night was growing. He dusted the rain from his blonde hair, taking a barstool near the door, his eyes lazily scanning the other costumers when he found the raven-haired man with hidden tears in his eyes.

Merlin asked for another shot, knowing it would not ease the pain but attempting to all the same. Today was hard on him. It was the anniversary of Arthur's death. It came as it did every year: more painful than any other soul could ever bear.

Like clockwork.

Merlin didn't bother to look up when a presence sat next to him. Not until the man put a hand on Merlin's shoulder did he even stir.

"Are you alright, friend?"

Merlin scoffed. "Do I know you?" He muttered, staring at the bottom of his shot.

"No, I'm new in town and I-"

"And yet," Merlin sighed, hoping to give the stranger a hint. "You call me friend."

Merlin could feel the man chuckle as he removed his hand. "My mistake."

Merlin sighed in relief.

"I would never be friends with someone who's such an ass."

Merlin's breath caught, the words so familiar to him but so far. They used to play I'm Merlin's mind in attempt to make him feel even the slightest bit of joy, but the other memories would flood them out.

Merlin couldn't find the strength to look up. The man still sat there, his body angled to the side with one arm rested on table. Merlin could perfectly envision the smirk that would be gracing his face, the way his eyes would mock him but show so much more at the same time. He could envision the gorgeous man that could be sitting next to him in the lonely bar, unknowing of their shared past but feeling their shared destiny that always use to intertwine.

But Merlin did not look up. He knew it was not the man he longed for. Looking up, seeing the face that did not belong to his lost king, would hurt more than anything.

So finally, bored of Merlin's silence, the man stood and left.

Everything came crashing down on Merlin in that moment. How could he not look? How could he not just glance up for a tiny moment? Just to be sure?

Merlin stood, chasing after him as he stepped out into the wet night. He flew through the door, unknowingly passing a man with blonde hair who was still dusting rain off his person. The only man who had truly saw Merlin cry.

"Wait!" Merlin called as he followed the man darkened by shadows.

But then the man turned around.

Merlin went numb.

"Yeah?" He asked, smiling, a bit amused.

"I'm sorry." Merlin breathed, his chest cracking and ripping as he stood. "I... I thought you were someone else."

"Hoping?" The man asked knowingly.

Merlin sighed sadly. "Yeah."

"Well," the man started with a smile. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thank you."

As the man turned his back, Merlin fell to the rain drenched ground. A sob tore through him as he watched the man retreat. Another cry. Another.

Like clockwork.

Like always, for so many centuries.

The thought of Arthur tore him apart.

Mercilessly.

Cruelly.

Hopelessly breaking him beyond even the healing of the blond man, who was now leaving the bar with his fill of rum, turning down the street in the opposite way as Merlin.

Leaving Merlin broken.

Like clockwork.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: If you liked the story where it left off, I wouldn't read this. I'm still not sure if I want to add this on :/**

* * *

The icy draft of the cold night brought Merlin back into reality. How long had he been bowing there on the wet sidewalk?

How long has he been wishing, hoping for something better?

But Better never comes. Only Worse. Only the piling on of Worse and Worse, until Better becomes no more than a distant memory.

How long has Merlin been searching?

Too long. So long that people no longer remember Arthur as the great and noble king he once was. He was a fairy-tale, a make-believe. Even Merlin's memory of him fades. Never lost, only dulling.

The true question he asks now is, How much longer can Merlin go on?

Not long. There will never be enough time. To Merlin, this concept is foreign, yet forming ever so slowly in the pits of his thoughts.

There will never be enough time.

Not enough time to search, to long for, to have hope. The far reaches of the world could be searched for the rest of eternity, but it will never be enough.

Because the only thing searching for in this dark, screwed up place the world's become will never be found.

And now Merlin knows.

He trembles.

His shivering plagues his fingers and toes, his back and chest. He vibrates into a slow, heart-wrenching sob that the Crows hear, and sing with as they fly to meet the reach of his sorrow.

"Arthur."

It is a quiet, mourning whisper. The cry of a love that has fail beyond hope and is giving in to its grief. The cry of a man who lost everything and could never recover. The cry of a boy who was so broken, he could never grow into a man.

"Arthur."

And yet, even as he releases hope into oblivion, hope blooms in a place he could never expect.

Through his wails of sadness Merlin heard a noise so distinct, he could recognize it until the end of time.

The echoing, enchanting roar in the distance of a beast that time had forgotten as well as it had forgotten Merlin.

A Dragon.

The last dragon.

And Merlin could not mistake, nor escape, the powerful omen it brings:

The King has returned.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I reread the last chapter and felt like writing some more, sooo. BTW, I got some awesome reviews on the last chap! Don't be afraid to review, good or bad. If I am truly horrid please tell me. I may cry a little but I'll appreciate it! :D**


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